


Lather, Rinse, Repeat

by Geonn



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maura's mind wanders in the shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lather, Rinse, Repeat

When she washes her breasts, she notices that her nipples are hard. She presses her lips together and thinks about how much time she has. If she finishes her shower in less than ten minutes, she would have fifteen minutes to read a chapter of her book before she goes to bed. She runs her hands through her hair as she debates. Masturbation or literature? For some people it might not be a big choice, but Maura truly was stymied. She tries to think if she has a fantasy available to make the masturbation take less time. If she climaxes quickly she can still finish the shower with time enough to read.

 _Jane._

She pushes the thought away. She leans against the wall of her shower stall and moves both hands down to her crotch. She cups her fingers, guiding the shower's spray onto her palms to form a small reservoir with her fingers. She moves her hands just slightly, using the water to press against herself. She closes her eyes and thinks of a sexy man. Strong arms, rounded shoulders. A strong jaw. Dark hair.

She realizes she's picturing Jane and knocks her head gently against the tile in frustration. If Jane wasn't so mannish, the animal side of her brain wouldn't get so confused. It was pure instinct. Jane is a strong, dominant person in Maura's life. Her posture and gait... even her voice is more masculine than any women Maura has ever known. Maura grew up in a posh world, and the women she knew growing up were very girly.

Jane isn't girly. Jane wouldn't know Gucci from Geico. Jane is a conundrum.

Maura is attracted to Jane. She admits it to herself and no one else. She allows it to become a conscious thought only in the privacy of her bath and her bed. She strokes with one hand, the fingers of the other on her clit, the water washing between her fingers as she imagines Jane waiting for her in the bedroom. No lacy lingerie for her; she would be in a white T-shirt. Probably boxer shorts.

Jane would want to be on top. She would lower Maura to the mattress and kiss her softly, softly, and she would slip her tongue into Maura's mouth. Her hands roaming. She would dip her head to breathe deep the scent of Maura's body wash and her tongue would dart out and follow the line of her throat down, down, down to her breasts. She would take one hard nipple into her mouth and suck. Maura would put her hands in the mess of tangles, not caring that it was longer than a man's would be, and she would guide Jane down her stomach. She would gasp when Jane's lips kissed her pubic hair and then she would push Maura's legs apart.

"Oh, I want her," Maura groans, arching her back as she uses both hands between her legs. "I want you, Jane." Now is the only time she would have the strength to say it out loud, she is certain. She licks her lips, she hunches her shoulders, and she rocks her hips against her palm as she imagines the things Jane Rizzoli would do to her.

Maura expects she'll have to force the image of Jane's head between her legs to form, but it's suddenly right there in front of her. Dark hair, the wide dark eyes looking up at her, the gorgeous cheek bones, and then the brush of Jane's tongue against her most sensitive spots. Maura cups the water against herself, rubbing fast, thighs trembling as she makes quiet sounds of pleasure.

Maura climaxes and clenches her teeth against the syllable trying to form on her lips. It becomes a formless grunt rather than a name, and she relaxes against the cold tile and holds her hands out to let the water course down her fingers. Her face is flush as she watches the water trail over her wrists and down her forearms. Her body is still sensitive, her hands trembling slightly as she brings them back to her breasts. She teases the nipples back to full erection and uses her palm to trace the line of her stomach.

She closes her eyes and starts over.

Reading in bed is overrated anyway.


End file.
